The Steelsheen Awards
by Aramel
Summary: Arwen and Eowyn battle it out in the Steelsheen Awards! May the best shieldmaiden win! I wanted to try writing a parody in a serious way. I'm not entirely sure whether or not it worked.


Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, or its characters, and I am in no way affiliated with New Line or Tolkien Enterprises. Satisfied?

I thought I'd put in my own explanation of why Morwen was called "Steelsheen".Arwen fans, I'm sorry!

The day dawned fair and bright upon Minas Tirith, and the many-coloured flags upon the fields of the Pelennor were fluttering in the wind. This day, all the city was come to see an event that had never occured in all the history of Middle-Earth: the day when the Ladies of Minas Tirith would pit their mental and physical prowess against each other, for fame and glory and the hearts of... er, their lords—for the title of "Steelsheen". The competition had not been held since the time of the Steward Ecthelion, due to war.

Most of the ladies had been eliminated in the previous weeks, and this day the final was to be held. The two combatants were the Lady Éowyn, White Lady of Rohan and Bane of the Nazgûl; and Arwen of Imladris and of Gondor, Queen to Elessar the King.

The matter of who the judge was to be had been a topic of much heated debate. None of the men of Minas Tirith were trusted to fill the position, for fear that they might have been swayed by bribes or the beauty of the contestants. And thus, the position fell to one who was considered impartial: Aramel of Lothlórien, maiden to the Lady of the Golden Wood who now was passed over the western sea. She was neither of Imladris nor of the Mark, and being an female, she was not likely to be swayed by a fair face as sometimes men were apt to be.

And it was she who now stood upon the walls of Minas Tirith, above the great gates of the city; and all the fields of the Pelennor were laid before her. A bell rang, signalling the start of the competition. Aramel raised her arms and cried out in her loudest voice, "Behold, O people of the lands of the West, for upon this day the Ladies of Minas Tirith combat for glory! Our challenger today is the fair Lady Éowyn, Éomund's Daughter, by her people named The Lady of the Shield-arm! She it was who rode through the flames of battle and the clouds of despair, to strike down he whom no man could hinder. Hail!"

All the people upon the fields cried as with one great voice, "Hail!" as upon a swift grey horse the lady Éowyn came riding from the north, to halt in front of the city gates. Very bright was her mail, and her hair flew in the wind of her speed.

Rubbing her sore throat, Aramel continued. "And now, we present without further ado, Arwen Undomiel, champion embroiderer and Queen of Gondor."

There was clapping from the audience as Arwen walked out of the city gates, clad in a long purple dress, which she daintily lifted as she walked. She halted some distance from Éowyn's horse, and both contestants waited for Aramel to proceed. Aramel cleared her throat again.

"Our first event shall be a trivia of the history of Middle-Earth and its lands. You have fifteen seconds to answer each question. Are you prepared, my ladies?"

Arwen called, "Yes!" Éowyn bowed her head in acknowledgement. Aramel nodded. "Very well. May the best shieldmaiden win! The first question is for the lady Arwen. Which two islands were originally one?"

Arwen scowled. "Wait! You said 'best shieldmaiden! I am no shieldmaiden!'"

"Too bad. Ten."

Arwen called, "Wait! I think I know! Um..."

"Nine."

"Gondor and Arnor!" Arwen yelled, panicking.

"I'm sorry, my lady. I asked which two islands, not which two lands. The correct answer was the Isle of Balar and Tol Eressëa."

"My father never said so" Arwen began, but Aramel hastily interrupted. "And our next question is for the lady Éowyn. What was the land of Númenor shaped like?"

"A five-pointed star, I believe," Éowyn announced. "At least, so I gather from what Faramir said."

"That is correct." Aramel smiled. "Next question, for Queen Arwen. Which horse had golden hooves?"

"Er... Fingolfin's horse? What-was-his-name... Narog? No, no, but it started with an N..."

"Ten."

"Oh, no, that was Oromë's horse. Oh, what was its name? Na... na..."

"Five."

"Na... naha...?"

"Time out. You were partially correct. It was Oromë's horse, but its name was Nahar and not Naha. The next question shall be for the lady Éowyn. What horse was said to have wings upon its feet?"

"Felaróf, horse of Eorl," said Éowyn instantly. "_Children_ know that."

"Correct. Arwen Evenstar, what is the most prized basin in Middle-Earth?"

Arwen blinked. "Huh? Um, my washbasin?"

"Incorrect. It was the Mirror of Galadriel. You of all people should know this." Aramel cleared her throat and proceeded. "Lady Éowyn, name a flower that has some special significance, and tell its significance."

"Simbelmynë," said Éowyn. "It blossoms on the graves of all the dead of the House of Eorl, and thus is called Evermind."

"Partially correct," said Aramel. "It does not bloom in the Paths of the Dead, where Baldor lies. I commend you, though. Lady Arwen, what herb is used by the Dúnedain for healing, and is called kingsfoil by some?"

"That would be... um, I know! _Athelas_!" Arwen beamed.

"You should know. And that is correct. Next question, for Lady Éowyn. What is _galenas_? And what are its uses?"

Éowyn was silent. "I believe that it is called westmansweed, but I am not sure of its uses. I do not recall that it had any."

"Incorrect. _Galenas_ is the hobbits' pipe-weed, and it is meant to be smoked in pipes. Alas, I did not ask for medicinal uses, my lady, though healers' lore is wise. Last question for Arwen. Who wove the tapestry of the Sons of Fëanor?"

"Míriel! I idolize Míriel! Do you know"

"That is correct, my lady. Lady Éowyn, who was Morwen Eledhwen?"

"My grandmother, I believe."

"Incorrect, my lady. Your grandmother was Morwen Steelsheenthe last winner of this award. Morwen Eledhwen was the mother of Túrin, and wife of Húrin." Aramel cleared her throat again. "Now, my ladies, you are tied at two correct, two incorrect and one partially correct question each. I will now ask the tie-breaking question. Whoever answers this correctly wins. Do balrogs have wings? Lady Arwen, what say you?"

"Um," Arwen began, "Um, they do?"

Aramel raised an eyebrow. "Lady Éowyn?"

Éowyn brushed a lock of hair from her face. "I'm not sure," she said.

Aramel grinned. "That is correct. We are not sure."

"Wait!" Arwen complained, "That was a trick question!"

"The Lady Éowyn is the winner of the first round," Aramel said, overriding Arwen. "Hail!"

"HAIL!" The crowd roared.

"Now for the second round," Aramel continued, "The ladies will each embroider something on cloth. Marks will be given on quality and completeness."

Embroidery hoops and baskets of thread were brought out for the ladies, who proceeded to embroider, Éowyn sitting on her horse, Arwen on a large rock. Half an hour passed. Aramel called, "My ladies, the audience is impatient. Are you done?"

Éowyn waved the handkerchief she had been embroidering. A page brought it up to Aramel, who inspected it. It was a miniscule scene of the slaying of Scatha the Worm, with several lines from a Rohirrim lay as border. Looking more closely, she could make out the words _Ða ic æt þearfe gefrægn þeodcyninges andlongne eorl ellen cyðan, cræft ond cenðu, swa him gecynde wæs_. Fitting, she thought.

Looking down at Arwen who was still hunched over her needlework, she called, "Lady Arwen! Are you done?"

Arwen raised her head and gazed at Aramel in incredulity. "Done? This is going to take ten years!"

Aramel choked, and a murmur ran through the crowd. "There is no time for that, Lady. Please hand up your work." The page obligingly ran down and fetched Arwen's cloth. A tiny edge of the cloth had been embroidered in black, but there was nothing else to be seen. Aramel made her decision.

"Lady Éowyn's work is by far the more complete and beautiful. The victory of this round goes to her. May I compliment you upon your speed and dexterity, my lady?"

"It was nothing," Éowyn replied. "If you'd been in my place, I do not doubt that you'd have wanted to get your needlework done as quickly as possible as well."

Aramel was at a loss for words to say. Then she mentally shrugged. "We proceed to the next round, the one that I am sure you have been awaiting. The combat! Ladies, mount your horses!"

"I don't have one," said Arwen.

"What happened to your last one, my lady?" Aramel narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, that thing? Glorfindel wanted it back." Arwen tossed her head.

Éowyn tightened her hand on her sword-hilt. "A horse is not a 'thing'", she grated. Aramel coughed.

"Very well, then. The competition must proceed without horses. My lady Éowyn, would your horse agree to let someone else take care of it for a time? Thank you." Éowyn dismounted. Lothíriel came to take the horse away.

"All right, then. May the Valar be with you. And no, Arwen, I am not stealing your line. You never had a line like that. So stop pouting at me and do something else."

Arwen turned away, looking sulky. She saw Éowyn walking toward her and panicked slightly. Then she gave a ha! and snatched the reins of Elladan's horse from Elladan, who was standing nearby. Scrambling up, she waved her curvy sword at Éowyn. Then she galloped past Éowyn and towards Lothíriel, who was bringing Éowyn's horse back, and snatched the reins of Éowyn's horse.

Éowyn, as might be imagined, was not amused. "Give the horse to me, elf!"

Arwen grinned, snapping into her so-called "defiant" mode. "If you want him, come and get him!"

Elrohir looked worried. "Um, Arwen?" he called, "I don't think this is a good idea. There isn't any river here, remember?"

Arwen abruptly remembered. "Oh" she snapped a word that made steam spout from Aramel's ears. "One more word like that, and you're disqualified, miss!" Aramel shrieked. Arwen pouted.

Éowyn had by this time approached Arwen. "Begone, elf, if you be not deathless, for mortal or of elven-kin, I will smite you, if you touch that horse." Her sword was drawn now, and glittered with a deadly flame.

Arwen sniffed. "I do not fear you," she said, and kicked Elladan's horse, which reared, pawing the air with its hooves. Éowyn raised her sword, and with one stroke swift and deadly slashed the horse across the legs. The horse gave a wild whinny and plunged sideways, thrashing and writhing, pinning Arwen beneath its falling weight.

Arwen shrieked and struggled out from under the horse, her once-elegant robes soaked with blood. "You... you..." she apparently remembered Aramel's earlier threat about disqualification, and her voice trailed off. She scrambled around for a moment, trying to find the sword she had dropped. Éowyn stepped forward.

Arwen found her sword, and grasped the blood-slick hilt. Shakily, she raised the tip to ward off Éowyn, and got to her feet. "Hah!" she crowed.

Éowyn made a face, and brandished her own sword. Arwen rushed forward unheeding. Éowyn sidestepped and thrust her own sword at Arwen's back as she hurtled past. Hearing the whoosh of steel through air, Arwen threw herself to one side. Éowyn snapped a viler word than Arwen had said. Aramel glowered and yelled at her. "Keep a civil tongue in your head! Both of you!"

Arwen was circling now, warily, though still shaking. She had obviously never learned how to use that fancy sword, Aramel thought, or she'd have known better than to hold it upright before her face with both hands. Why, if Éowyn struck Arwen's sword, Arwen might well split her face in half with her own sword.

Arwen fumbled with the sword for a moment, then switched it to her right hand and pointed it at Éowyn. Éowyn raised her eyebrows, then struck with her own sword. Blade met blade with a ringing clash of steel. Éowyn's sword flashed, twisting around Arwen's like a silver snake. Sword and wielder flew in opposite directions.

Arwen was lying facedown on the turf. Slowly, she dragged herself to her knees, to be met with the icy point of a sword. Her gaze traveled up from the tip, past the scrolled golden hilt and the hand that held it, into the unblinking face of a shieldmaiden.

"Yield," said Éowyn.

Unwillingly, Arwen lowered her head. "I yield."

On the walls, Aramel announced, "And so our champion is… Éowyn, Lady of Rohan! All hail the lady Steelsheen!"

"HAIL!" The crowd roared as one, and Aramel hastened forth to proffer the laurels.

The OE is from Beowulf, lines 2694-2697.


End file.
